"You stupid idiot— you tainted his pure mind?!" Haeun rages as Taehyung looks back helplessly from my furious face to Haeun's deadly one.

"Hey— I told him to say it when someone was being mean to him." He says it defensively as Jimin glances nervously at the fight he'd accidentally caused.

"Besides, it did come in kind of handy at the end, didn't it...?"

His voice fades away when he notices Haeun glaring at him.

"Jimin!" He calls, stealing nervous glances towards Haeun's direction. "Don't say that anymore, okay? It's really bad!"

Then the instructor slams his sticks together for attention, and we all fall quiet as we watch the man stride out into the middle of the stage.

I couldn't believe how many people were participating for a chance at the all-expense paid trip. I didn't blame them— not at all.

Not when it was to World Dance Academy.

And ever since the principal had opened the competition to other schools as well, the number had grown exponentially.

Jimin seems uncertain.

"The Preliminaries for the Annual Spring Competition will be held in exactly two weeks from now!" He announces, eyes slitted at the murmuring students.

"Out of the one hundred dancers participating, only ten will be chosen. And then they will move onto the Elite round."

"From there, the best dancer will be chosen to represent our region in the Finale Contest opened at Daegu."

______________________

Jimin looks mentally shaken.

"Minah— I don't think I'm going to make it." He says depressingly, voice deflated as he tugs at his hair.

"I didn't know there was another Competition. And opened nationally."

"Hey— are you saying you're going to give up without trying?" I say back, watching his face fall. "I know this sounds like absolute no help— but you need to try your best. If you don't make it, it's not your fault. You still tried."

Of course.

I should've expected something like this— the school just didn't have the budget to send a student to Paris. And to World Dance Academy, at that. The school with only fifteen students— the prodigies chosen from prodigies.

"I don't know."

"Hey!" I exclaim, rapping lightly against the side of his head. "Get out of that mindset— you're not going to do anything with that kind of thought."

"We'll figure something out tomorrow."

"I don't know." He repeats, sliding into bed next to me. "I feel like I'm missing something. Like there's something more I'm supposed to be doing."

"Practice?"

"I don't know." He says again, and the look of frustration is clear on his face as he rubs his fingers against his tattoo. "Maybe."

Then an idea sparks up in the back of my mind.

"I know what you're missing, Jimin." I say excitedly as I clap both my hands together. "No matter how much talent you have, you need someone to help you get it out."

"What?"

"What I'm basically saying is that we're using Kim Taehyung again."

_______________________

"Tae~" I call, and the bored-looking boy doesn't even glance up from the television screen as he sighs.

"Yes, your personal ATM is ready. How much would you like to steal today?"

"Cut it out, Taehyung." I grumble as I watch Haeun teach Jimin how to properly make waffles. "You do want Jimin to win, don't you?"

"Well, I mean—"

He looks up at me.

"Yeah. Of course."

"I want you to find a teacher for him." I say, before pursing my lips together. "I mean— to be honest, I want you to pay for a teacher for him."

"Yeah, obviously." He says, before leaning down against his elbow. "So who am I paying for?"

"Here." I mumble, searching for my phone and pulling up the picture of the teacher I'd found. "Him."

"And of course it's a he." He murmurs as I shoot a glare at him. "Because you don't want some girl—"

"Shut the hell up, please." I hiss as he giggles under his jacket. "He's not much from Jimin's age, so they might make friends with each other. Apparently he's been dancing all his life."

"That's what it says in the description?" He asks, frowning. "He sounds a bit sketchy to me."

"Look who's worrying about Jimin now." I smirk as I shake my head. "But no— he's actually good. He's even gone abroad to the Americas for training."

"Well, what's his name?"

"Jung Hoseok."

________________________

Hmm.

"Oh my gosh— is this the new student?" He gushes the moment Jimin and I walk in the door, and I instantly fall back as Jimin's eyes go wide.

This wasn't what I expected.

There was another student other than Jimin— a quiet-looking boy who was giving the two of us shy glances.

He's wearing a thin turtleneck, sleeves pulled up to his lower arms as he fidgets.

"Meet Jungkook— you two are my best class!" Hoseok exclaims as Jimin shifts his weight nervously on his feet. "And don't worry— I promise I don't bite. Is this your sister?"

"She's my Master."

At Jimin's quiet announcement, Hoseok instantly falls silent. The boy called Jungkook looks over at us, before withdrawing his gaze again when it meets with mine.

The choking atmosphere thankfully lasts for only a second.

"An AI!" Hoseok yells, immediately rushing over to Jimin to lift up his arm. "But that's impossible! You look completely human!"

Then Jimin wordlessly points at his darkened tattoo, and Hoseok literally spends the next three minutes inspecting the mark.

At least he seemed friendly.

"Could I stay and watch?" I ask, and Hoseok nods as he finally tears his attention from Jimin's tattoo.

"You're welcome to, but it might take longer than you think. But yeah, you're welcome to watch."

The moment I settle down comfortably on the smooth wooden floor of the practice room, Hoseok gets to introducing the two to each other.

I suppress a giggle when I see Jimin's gaze tremble as the other boy, Jungkook, nervously holds out a hand.

They were like the two shyest people I'd ever met.

"Alright!" Hoseok exclaims as he claps both of his hands together.

"Let's start with freestyle, shall we?"

_______________________

It's like watching a direct comparison.

Even though they'd both been uncertain for the beginning part of the music thumping through the practice room, I could easily see each of them adjusting, getting more comfortable.

And while that boy, Jungkook— moves with so much power, Jimin moves with elegance and grace.

Like a wolf and a swan.

"Amazing." Hoseok says, clapping his hands together when the music fades to a stop. "So much talent. But the technique—"

He looks at Jimin.

"Might need some help."

Jimin flushes, and Hoseok quickly holds up two hands. "I mean after some training, you'll see that you've become better than ever. You two have a lot of potential."

Then Jimin's eyes flicker over to me as I quietly slip out of the room, motioning to him that I'd go ahead to make dinner.

He nods, even though he seems a bit more troubled.

When I step out of the institute and into the cool evening air, I breathe in a deep sigh. I'm wondering what I should make for dinner when I hear a muffled shriek.

Huh?

Then to my peripheral vision, I see a flash of a fist. My mouth drops open when I hear a feminine gasp, and the sound of faint crying.

"I said get off of me. I don't like girls with no backbone."

"Yah!"

My teeth grind when I recognize the surprised male face— of course I'd see none other than Im Jisung bothering a girl.

An amused smirk twists his lips when I instinctively get into position.

"Your body still remembers taekwondo, huh?" He chuckles as I shoot him a glare. The crying girl watches the scene with widened eyes.

"And you? Going around hitting girls?"

"In Taekwondo, all gender are equal." He shrugs, and I growl reflexively. "And besides, she was annoying."

"This isn't taekwondo." I hiss as I stand my ground. "You don't just go around hitting girls, Im Jisung. What's wrong with you?"

"I'll leave her alone under one condition." He suggests, still looking bemused.

"Have a match with me, Minah."